


Something That You've Never Seen

by Damalia (Achrya)



Series: Something In You I Believe In [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Clubbing, Crossdressing, Grinding, Jealousy, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Makeup, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being ditched by Mikasa and Armin, Eren is dragged out to a dance hall by Jean but, soon enough, he loses Jean as well. He's resolved to just getting really drunk when he hears a familiar voice. </p><p> </p><p>  <em>The man with Armin stepped closer, putting himself back at the smaller man’s back. “There a problem Armin? You didn’t mention having an angry boyfriend.”</em><br/><em>“He isn’t-” Armin jerked his head around, looking startled. “What? No.” </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Work, Work, Work, Work

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by the videos for Work, with Rihanna featuring Drake. I was transported to my college dance hall hopping days and started feeling nostalgic. Also the videos are hot as hell annnnd I take any excuse to indulge my love of Armin in skirts and Marco in lipstick.
> 
> Warnings: Language, grinding, boys in skirts, boys in makeup, jealousy, background thirsty ass Marco and Jean (trust me, such thirst. Probably banging in a corner somewhere.), pretty pretty Armin, gratuitous descriptions of makeup and clothing.

“Could you possibly look more miserable?” Jean asked as he spared him a look over his shoulder. Eren just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and glared, daring Jean to say something else. 

Which, of course, he did. 

“Guess so.” Jean sneered. “Keep being an asshole then Jaeger, stay miserable for no good fucking reason when we’re about to be surrounded by booze and hot people.” 

Eren huffed. It wasn’t that he was opposed to going out or, even, letting Jean drag him to  _ Badmind _ , a hole in the wall club that pumped out dancehall music so loud Eren could feel it in his teeth from outside, because the few times he’d come out he’d had fun. Jean had a nose for fun places and an ear for good music.

The problem was that Mikasa had rather unceremoniously booted him from the apartment for the night so she could spend time with Annie and Armin had more or less been blowing him off all day. He’d called a few times to try and coax his best friend out for the night with him and Jean but other than a terse text of ‘busy’ there’d been no response. 

“No it’s fine. Keep moping about Armin not calling you.” Jean rolled his eyes then turned away from him to hand his ID to the doorman. Eren did the same then followed Jean inside. It was a bit like stepping into a different world; on one side of the door it was a chill winter night and people were wearing thick coats and huddling together and on the other it was almost oppressively hot and Eren could feel sweat beading on his brow right away, there was glistening barely covered skin all around, the dull roar of a hundred people speaking, and the music was blaring, a heavy thumping mix of electronic and hip-hop. 

Most of the hall was one big room and the vast majority of that was made up of the dance floor. There were some tables, chairs, and booths along one of the walls, a small sitting area with some worn looking couches and chairs towards the back, and a long wooden bar. There were people in those areas too but most of them were in the middle, crammed in tight and undulating together in time to the music. 

They dropped their coats in coat check then set out winding across the floor to the bar. The floor was sticky under his feet and he kicked more than a few crushed plastic cups along the way. Damp bodies brushed and moved against them as they slipped past; hands touched and lingered over him but he shrank away as best he could, sticking close to Jean’s back. 

Jean however was already smiling, pale brown eyes gleaming in the dim club lighting. It was always kind of a trip to see his friend, normally careful and reserved, unwind. He looked like he belonged there, a flush creeping over pale skin, hair shaved on one side and the rest, ash brown and ear length, swept to the back, tight black shirt showing off well toned arms, skintight white jeans riding low, and a collection of chains hanging from his neck and wrists.  

In their normal lives Jean was a fan of hooded sweatshirts and slouchy sweatpants, chronically sleepy-eyed like he’d rolled out of bed and headed to class, but here he turned heads. It was surreal in a way how well he cleaned up when he wanted to.  

Eren, on the other hand, felt like he stood out in his dark jeans, plaid button down, and scuffed up boots. Jean had sighed and fussed, managed to convince him wear one of his tighter t-shirts and to sit still while Annie used an eyeliner pencil and smudged dark kohl around his eyes. It wasn’t anything new, except normally it was Armin who tried to wheedle him into looking a little nicer and he usually gave in more. 

He knew Armin had him wrapped around his fingers, he just didn’t care enough to do anything about it. There were worse things. 

Jean flagged down the bartender and had a bottle of beer, cold and dripping with condensation, pressed into Eren’s hand in short order. He took a drink, looking around as the bitter liquid flooded his mouth. 

Drinks were on Jean which, along with having nowhere to go but Jean’s place for the night, was why he’d agreed to come out at all. He settled onto a stool and intended to stay there until Jean got bored, which meant he was in for the long haul.

Jean moved between Eren and the floor, dancing first with a solidly built woman with tightly coiled hair and thick lips who fit herself to close to him it was hard to see where one ended and the other began then a muscular man who’d lost his shirt somewhere but seemed happy to try and crawl into Jean’s. The second time he came back, hair wet and shirt molded to his body with sweat, he prodded Eren hard in the shoulder. 

“You gonna sit here all night Jaeger? Come make me look good. Better.” 

Eren tipped his second beer back against his lips and shook his head. “I’m here for the drinks not to help you pull someone to dry hump.” 

Jean’s sigh was extremely put upon. “Worst wingman ever.”

“I try.” 

The way people moved with each other in this place was more like sex than some of the actual sex Eren’d had in his life and while that was fine sometimes there were other times when he just wasn’t in the mood for it. 

It was incredibly hard to feel mopey and betrayed when Jean was grinding up against him. He’d tried it a few times, failed everytime. 

Jean rolled his eyes. “C’mon man. Try to have some fun. Armin and Mikasa wouldn’t want you to be miserable like this. Don’t make me call and tell on you.”

“Low blow.” He muttered then shook his head. “You don’t have to keep an eye on me Jean. I’m fine. Go enjoy your clothed sex.” 

Jean’s grin was all wet lips and teeth. He plucked the bottle from Eren’s hands and drained it, throat working as he swallowed. Then the bottle went down and, after a wave to the bartender, he was leaning into him, hands gripping the bar on either side of him and flashing him that smile again. 

Eren laughed in spite of himself. If only all the people they’d grown up with could see Jean like this, wild eyed and breathing hard, their minds would be blown. Jean crowded in and bent over him, not so close that they were touching but close enough that Eren could feel the heat radiating from him, face so close they were breathing the same beer soaked air, sliding so he was between his legs. He could see the sweat on Jean’s skin, a thin glistening sheen, and smell salt and soap clinging to him. 

He stayed more or less in place, leaning back against the bar and plucking up the new drink, and watched Jean move; shifting legs up to rotating hips, body swaying to the beat of the music pulsing around them. It was downright innocent compared to how he usually danced. He laughed again and was rewarded with a crooked grin. 

Someone wedged their way up to the bar next to them, shouting an apology as they bumped Eren’s elbow. He shifted, mouth open to say it was fine, but a sharp inhale from Jean had him taking another drink and smiling around the glass on his lips. 

He was pretty sure he’d lost whatever bit of Jean’s interest he’d had.

The man next to them was tall, maybe a little taller than Jean, with messy black curls, brown skin dotted with freckles, dark brown eyes framed by dark lashes, dark smudges underneath and shimmery copper on the lids, and a full mouth painted with matte- a word he’d learned from Annie- black lipstick. 

A black hooded crop top stretched over wide shoulders and showed off shifting muscles under more freckled skin. Cargo pants in a fatigue pattern sat just low enough to show a hint of hip bone and clung to thick thighs and a….considerable ass.  

All in all Jean’s type: solid build, well muscled, great hair, and a great ass. 

“You’re drooling.” Eren said softly. Jean gave no indication that he’d heard him, much too busy drooling. 

The man got his drink, something dark red in a clear plastic cup, and dark eyes flickered over to them as he shifted away from the bar. And then he blinked, turning fully to face them, or more to the point to face Jean, and a touch of pink snaked out to touch dark lips. Then he looked at Eren, head tilting in obvious question, and Jean straightened up so fast it was almost comical. 

The man smiled then turned away to walk towards the tables lining the wall. Jean watched him go, eyes wide and a little glassy. 

“Go.” Eren said. 

Jean shook his head but didn’t stop watching. “It’s fine man. We’re hanging out. Bro time.” 

Eren scoffed then nudged at Jean with his foot. “Seriously it’s fine. Go.” His friend still looked unsure, chewing on his bottom lip as he stood there. “Jean. Get the fuck out of my face. “

“Fine, fuck, I’m going.” He grumbled it but his eyes were excited. “Find me if you want to go, okay?” 

Eren watched him go and melt into the crowd, smiling faintly. He didn’t mind Jean going off to chase something that had caught his eye, he’d done it once or twice himself, and it meant he wouldn’t have to deal with Jean trying to peel him from his stool anytime soon.

It might get a little weird at the end of the night but blocking out sex noises was just part of life sometimes. Better he had to listen to Jean than Mikasa and Annie at least. 

He nursed his beer, took a shot, and was considering putting a few more on Jean’s tab when a burst of familiar bell like laughter, somehow rising above everything else, had him squinting out over the hall. He knew, logically that there was absolutely no way it was who it sounded like, there were probably lots of people out there with a laugh like that and yet he found himself looking anyway, unable to stop himself. 

A flash of blond hair in the sea of writhing bodies had him slipping from his seat and, with minimal light headedness, he moved towards it. The crowd moved, heaving and twisting as if it were a single living thing, then parted again. He wasn’t sure at first, he looked so different and his glasses were gone and-

But no, Eren would know Armin anywhere and, when blue eyes caught his and widened in surprise, he knew the same was true of Armin.

He was wearing a lacy red corseted top that stopped just above his bellybutton, a drapey black skirt, cut high on the thigh over one leg and then down to the calf over the other, and strappy black heels that criss crossed over his ankles. There were touches of silver; a heavy metal cuff around his wrist and a chain that connected it to a ring around his middle finger, a delicate looking chain around his stomach, looping into the piercing in his belly button and then snaking up to vanish under the corset to reappear around his neck. 

His head was tipped forward and one of his hands was keeping his hair, golden waves that faded into a soft pink, from falling over his face and shoulders. All of the exposed skin was flushed and slick looking and-

Eren’s brain felt like it going too slow to process it all. This was Armin, his Armin, and yet it wasn’t. They’d been friends their entire lives but he’d never seen him looking like this, not even close. There was something happier, lighter, and more delicate to him and he wanted to get closer and run his fingers over everything to make sure it was real. 

Why had he never seen this before?

He liked this. 

Why was it so hot all of a sudden?

Armin was with someone (someone Eren didn’t know) and not just with, but held close with his body flush against the other while his hips rolled. Armin’s date was a huge blond man with tanned skin, golden brown eyes, and a ready smile. His arms were big and, with them draped over narrow shoulders and crossed over Armin’s chest, he seemed to completely engulf the smaller man with his much bigger frame. If Armin minded it didn’t show in his openly gleeful expression. 

When he saw Eren his smile froze into something a lot like a kid caught trying to sneak a cookie before dinner. But then the moment passed and Eren was watching as Armin all but snatched his hand from where it’d been reaching back to touch the larger man’s leg. 

A nauseating curl of something hot and furious curled low in his stomach, burned along with the alcohol and the heat of the club. 

“Eren!” Armin ducked away from the guy he was with sounding a little strained and breathless. His hands went up, sort of fluttered there, and then went back down to curl into fists. “I-I thought you were doing stuff with Mikasa and Annie tonight.” 

Eren looked up at the larger man, frowning hard, then shrugged. “If you’d actually answered your phone...” 

He let it hang there, trusting Armin would get the point.

Already pink cheeks darkened. “Yeah well. I was uh.”

“Busy?” Eren guessed. It sounded accusing, angry, to his own ears. He was angry, sort of. Armin could have told him if he had a date; what was the point in ignoring him all day like he was sneaking around? “I can tell.”

He saw some of the people closest to him starting to edge away, giving them a strange little empty patch of floor to themselves. 

The man with Armin stepped closer, putting himself back at the smaller man’s back. “There a problem? You didn’t mention having an angry boyfriend.” 

He heard the unspoken ‘is this guy a problem’ and it fed the anger like dry wood added to a campfire. Who the fuck was this guy anyway? He was never a problem for Armin, never. He was the problem solver; he’d been beating up bullies and chasing off douchebags their whole lives, was there whenever things went wrong, did his best to keep his friend happy.

“He isn’t-” Armin jerked his head around, looking startled. “What? No.” 

Eren frowned, fingers twitching with the desire to...something. He wasn’t sure. He just knew he was angry and that Armin was with someone else who was practically plastered against his back, just completely in his space. 

That was Eren’s spot. Always had been. He’d never liked people being there, able to touch and be with Armin, but he’d always managed to bite his tongue and kept quiet. He felt far less inclined to keep quiet now though. 

“Does he know that?”

Armin looked distressed by the question, mouth opening and closing around soundless words. Eren took a step closer, trying to get around the petite blond so he could tell this other guy to fuck right off and stop upsetting Armin. He wanted to see the bright easy smile back on Armin’s face, not the pinched expression he was wearing now.

But Armin was there, in his way. An arm reached up and snaked around his neck, soft hand curling to hold the back and command his attention without a word. One of his hands fell to rest on Armin’s hip before he’d realized he’d done it and then he curled his fingers, not wanting to let go. He felt smug, wanted to look up at this other guy and say ‘See, mine?’ but that would have meant looking away from Armin and that seemed wrong. His lips were a dark glossy cherry color, pouty and pretty in a way Eren couldn't recall them ever being before, and above his eyes was a light peach that flowed and blended into a pale gray. His eyes seemed to glow.

"No fighting." Armin said it so quietly Eren wasn't sure if he heard it or just knew instinctively what his friend was saying. “If you’re going to butt in you have to dance with me.” 

Eren forgot about being angry. “Okay.” 

The bigger man snorted. “I’ll be with Bertholdt.”

Armin nodded but didn’t look away from Eren. His expression was something Eren couldn’t quite understand: thoughtful and gentle and complicated. He stepped closer, fitting himself against Eren so one of his legs was between Eren’s, softer and rounder than his own. His fingers drifted over his neck, touching the length of leather that held his ever present key and then burying in the hair at the base of his skull. 

Eren had never been particularly good with following music but he’d always been pretty good at following Armin. (Armin would probably argue it had been Eren who’d always been leading them, usually right into trouble, but no, it was Armin’s dreams and wants that Eren made his own and reached for.) So when Armin moved against him, legs and knees loose and hips moving in short rolling motions that made Eren’s breathing stutter, it wasn’t hard to move with him. 

Armin was warm, hot really, upper body sliding down over Eren’s and then back up; he saw an upward quirk of lips and a flash of teeth. His face as close enough that Eren could smell mint and something fruity, felt a brush of hair across his cheek and chin, and then there was space between their upper bodies again, Armin somehow right against him and yet not close enough.  

The crowd moved in around them, filling the gaps that had been left, and it quickly became so hot he could barely breathe. They were bumped and jostled by heaving bodies and he found himself pressing a hand to Armin’s thigh, as if to keep him in place, and then up a little to stop just short of the hem of his skirt. 

Armin’s skin was slick to the touch and curving his hand over it felt just right.

It wasn’t like he’d never touched Armin before. Sometimes they slept in the same bed if Armin stayed over at his and Mikasa’s place and more than once he’d woken up to the blond using him as a teddy bear/human pillow but it had never been like this. 

Never a matter of heat and bodies and a thigh gyrating between his legs, but occasionally waking up and fleeing for a cold shower before it could become an awkward situation. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted, hadn't thought about more, but the timing never seemed right and after that incredibly unfortunate attempt at a relationship with Jean back in high school had nearly undone their friendship he'd worried about what could go wrong but now? With Armin tucked against him, body just a little soft and seeming to align perfectly in all the right places, and his heart thudding in his chest and his mind able to focus on nothing but the blond? All of the other stuff seemed less important. 

He slipped his hand further around, found the swell of Armin’s ass and squeezed. 

He heard the gritted out gasp over everything else like it was made for his ears and then Armin was turning around, pressing his back to Eren’s chest and fitting his ass right into the hollow of his hips. Armin tipped his head back to rest against his shoulder. Eren’s hand found his hip, pressed against the bone, and the other reclaimed its spot against bare skin. Armin just swayed against him for a moment then bent forward a little, shifting his backside up just enough to-

Eren squeezed his hip.

Armin ground back against his dick while rotating his hips in time to the music. 

“Jesus.” He muttered into the top of Armin’s hair. 


	2. Doing Tricks You've Never Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin is cock hungry filth (in the best possible way) who rides dick like a champ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned this is plotless right?

 

Eren was a little drunk but not to the ‘losing control’ point and under normal circumstances he’d say he wasn’t anywhere near the ‘be pushed up against the door in a bathroom while his best friend swallowed his cock’ point and yet that was exactly what he was doing. 

With Armin leading him by the hand it would have been impossible to do anything but follow even if he had the presence of mind not to. Which he didn’t really. 

Something about the way Armin had felt against him, had looked up at him, had turned his head and kissed him was making it hard to think. It made him feel wild and reckless and like he not just wanted Armin but needed him. 

He’d been done for after the first kiss. He’d had his hands on Armin’s hips, rubbing at the skin between shirt and skirt, so hard that he knew the other man had to be able to feel it but unable to feel as nervous or self conscious as he should have with Armin pressing back against him.

His nose had been pressed against Armin’s skin, nuzzling against a smooth cheek and then, with just a tilt and turn of his head, Armin had pressed their lips together. Whatever he was wearing on his lips had made them a little sticky and sweet, like some fruit flavored candy, and his tongue tasted like mint.

There had been nothing chaste or hesitant on Armin’s part and just like in everything else Eren had just been doing his best to keep up, breathing when he could as the eager messy kisses blended together. Hands drifted and, though he was aware that they were basically making out and dry humping in the middle of a hundred other people, all he could do was keep it going right until Armin had smiled up at him, bright eyed and breathless, and started leading him away from the dance floor. 

It was mostly a straight shot to the small hallway behind the bar, no one seeming to notice or care about them even though to Eren that it felt as if everyone should have been able to tell they were up to no good. 

There was a moment where he stopped, spotting Jean tucked back into a corner, identifiable mostly by his hair, and thinking maybe he should say something before he realized that his friend was...thoroughly occupied. Jean’s face was hidden in the neck of the dark haired man he’d gone after earlier and he had a hand down the back of the man’s pants. If Eren had to judge by way Jean’s companion was squirming and clinging to Jean’s shirt he would have guessed they didn’t want to be bothered.

In the end it didn’t matter because Armin had yanked him forward, tossing an impatient look over his shoulder, and he’d found himself scrambling to get get moving again. 

They’d gone past the men’s room to the ‘family’ restroom and once the door was shut behind him he was being pressed up against the door with a force most people wouldn’t have thought Armin capable of. The bathroom wasn’t much to look at, a flickering light above them, a toilet, a sink, and a changing station along the wall but it wasn’t as if he was looking all that hard. Armin rubbed a hand over him then squeezed his dick through his jeans, tongue dragging over his quirked up lips when Eren hissed. He felt his dick throbbing in Armin’s hand and pushed his hips forward for a little, desperate for something, anything, more. 

Another brief grin before his belt was undone, button popped, and zipper yanked down so fast he half wondered if he was imaging everything. 

His sex dreams did always seem to feature clothes that just melted off on command and with minimal awkward fumbling. 

He’d never had any dreams about Armin in a skirt before but there was a first time for everything. He did like the way girls looked in skirts, liked being able to run his hands up their thighs to feel what was underneath and he did, after all, have dreams about Armin in general, so this worked. Though more often than not dreams about Armin were less about sex and more dreaming about being half dressed and making out lazily on a couch or cuddling in his bed but Eren tried really hard to not think about about those dreams because the ones where he was fucking Armin on the kitchen counter were just easier to process and-

Armin kissed him again, wet and sticky and sweet, and Eren tried to grab at him, dug his fingers into his back side for a moment, kneading the muscle and drinking in the raspy exhale the blond let out. Then his hand was swatted away and Armin dropped down to his knees. Eren watched him, blinking rapidly as his pants and underwear was yanked down. The air was cool across his dick but there wasn’t much time to dwell on it before Armin’s mouth was there, furnace hot and dripping over him. 

He licked, long graceless swipes up and down the shaft, then swirling his tongue over the head. He lapped at the slit with smaller softer motions, lips spreading into a smile when Eren’s let out a stuttering breath then reached down to brush his hand over the top of his head. Another lick, this time to the underside, tongue seeming to curl up against his cock as Armin’s eyes drifted shut. He looked like he was enjoying it, like every taste was of some amazing treat, and it might have been the hottest thing Eren had ever seen.

Right up until Armin’s mouth, still smudged with red but now slick with spit, opened up wide and slipped around him. Blue eyes opened up and looked up, meeting Eren’s in a silent command to watch; Armin slide down his length right to the base, slurping obscenely, and Eren may very well have have forgotten his own name for all the ability to think he had left. 

His mouth was hot and wet around him, taking him in so deep he could feel his throat fluttering around the head of his cock and then tightening when he swallowed. It wasn’t Eren’s first blow job but without a doubt it was the most enthusiastic. There was a moment where Armin just held him in his mouth and then he was moving, lips and tongue rubbing over his cock as his head bobbed. His cheeks hollowed, making everything that much tighter around Eren, and he hummed and he would have closed his eyes to just feel it but Armin looked-

There were no words. 

Spit was leaking out of his mouth, his lip were stretched and so so red, eyes lowered so there was just the barest hint of blue peeking through his pale eyelashes and Eren decided he couldn’t be dreaming because this was just way too fucking good. 

He was panting, petting and gripping Armin’s hair alternately, straining to stay still and not fuck into the hot soft channel around him around him, when the blond pulled back with a wet pop, spit trailing from his swollen mouth to Eren’s cock. He groaned at the loss, and at the visual, even as he replaced Armin’s mouth with his own hand.

All thoughts of finishing himself off fled when Armin sucked two fingers so deep into his mouth his lips were flush against his palm.

Eren watched as he licked over his fingers, tongue laving over them before they sank back past his lips and into his mouth. Eren watched him shift, skirt rising up higher over pale thighs as his legs spread apart; his fingers came free, shiney with his saliva. Eren’s breath caught in his lungs and started to burn as he watched Armin reach down and back and

“Shit.” 

Armin’s laughed, stopped to sigh long and low in a way that branded itself on Eren’s memory, then sank down a little further. His lips opened into a O and his head tilted back. The skirt pushed up higher, rucked up more around his hips and stomach than anything else, and Eren breathed out. 

Armin was wearing panties, delicate pale blue gauzy things edges with white lace and a tiny white bow that just seemed filthy, placed right over where Armin’s cock was pressing up and past the waistband. It was flushed and red and dripping and Eren couldn’t remember ever wanting to get his mouth on something so bad. 

Except he really wanted to see what Armin was doing with his fingers. And maybe for Armin to suck his dick again. 

He wanted a lot of things.

It was conflicting. 

Armin’s free hand reached up to grip his shirt and, with a little tugging, Eren found himself sitting on the floor. It was probably gross and he didn’t particularly care because Armin bent to get his mouth back on his cock and the angle had his ass up in the air. His skirt still blocked everything but Eren could see the outline of his hand, pushing and twisting. 

Armin didn’t take him in his mouth again so much as drool and lick at him until he was dripping with spit. He sat, blinking dumbly as Armin crawled over him, a leg on either side of him, one hand pressing down on his shoulder and the other around his dick, holding him in place. His hands found Armin, one against his hip and the other under his skirt to palm the curve of his ass and the slippery fabric pulled tight over it. 

He felt resistance against the head of his cock then Armin breathed out and pressed down and Eren was inside of him, slowly being pulled deeper as the blond sank down on him. 

Armin’s hand squeezed his shoulder and a soft mutter of ‘stay still’ touched his ear. Eren had never been known for his patience but he bit his lip until he tasted blood in an attempt to do as he was told. It was a slow slide, nearly painfully tight as Armin’s body squeezed and trembled around him, with the blond rocking up and down, fucking himself open on Eren’s dick. 

It helped that his brain had all but stopped working, entirely too rattled to attempt to keep up anymore. Armin panted and groaned into his ear, whispered that he felt good, and it made Eren’s head swim. 

They kissed again, Armin licking into his mouth and tasting more bitter than he had before, and a hand twined in his hair as he was dragged even closer and knees pressed against his ribs. 

Armin rocked up and down in short shallow movements at first then he started moving faster, sliding up further, until only the rip of Eren’s cock was still in him, and letting Eren drag him back down. They were sweating, Armin’s skin slippery under his hands, and the sound of wet skin coming together was almost as loud as the sounds dropping from Eren’s lips.

Nails scraped over his scalp then his hair was pulled, forcing his head back some. His throat was licked over and then Armin leaned back a little, hips swiveling then tilting as he sank down again. It must have been good because his eyes slammed shut, body shaking and tensing. Eren could  _ feel _ it, a pulsing and clenching, around him.

Eren went still, hand dragging over skin, and tried to take in everything at once, tried to make sure he’d never forget the sight of Armin, black skirt hiked up,  panties pushed to the side, dick drooling precum, sitting on his cock, and trembling. 

One of Armin’s eyes cracked open and his hair was yanked again. “Move.” 

Eren hurried to comply, thrusting up as Armin rode him, relishing in the feeling of tight muscles fluttering around him, clinging to him, and was rewarded with demands for more, there, please,  _ Eren pleaseohfuckplease. _

He came sooner than he wanted, almost taken by surprise by the force it hit him with, and shouted against Armin’s neck as his fingers dug deep, probably leaving bruises behind. He came hard, stomach twisting, and emptied himself deep into Armin’s body. There were no complaints though, just a strange shaky moan as the blond rode him through his orgasm. 

When he slipped out of his lap he missed him immediately but his limbs here too heavy for him to do anything but watch as Armin sat back, legs spread wide enough that Eren suspected it was for his benefit more than anything else, and took himself in hand. 

His brain, melted goo that it was, kindly informed him that he’d come inside of his best friend who was now jerking off in front of him and that it was really fucking hot. Got hotter when he realized his cum was leaking out of Armin. 

When the blond came it was with a grimace and a shudder, splashing over his hand and thighs. 

They didn’t move or speak for what felt like a long time. Then Armin giggled. 

“This. This is disgusting.” 

Eren looked around, remembered they were on the floor of a bathroom, and nodded slowly. “A little.”

This wasn’t how he’d envisioned his first time with Armin going, not that he’d ever assumed such a thing would actually happen, or even his first time with a guy that wasn’t trading handjobs in the basement of Jean’s parent’s house. 

They got up, him first to grab handfuls of paper towel for Armin to wipe down. His dick gave a valiant attempt at rising back to the occasion as he watched Armin wipe himself clean; he frowned and silently asked it what it thought it was doing. 

They’d made it all of three steps back into the main area, Eren feeling like a spotlight was on them and everyone who looked their way would know what they'd been doing (or worse, had somehow heard them over the music) when Jean popped up from somewhere. He poked Eren in the chest, looking mad enough to kill, then stopped. Looked at Armin. Back at Eren. Back at Armin.

“Armin? What are you...holy shit, you two fucked. Do you even know how you look? Because...are you wearing a skirt?” Jean’s brow furrowed. “What the fuck...you know what, don’t care, getting laid somewhere not in the back of a gross club. You sober?” 

Armin, expression the same complicated one he’d been wearing earlier, nodded. “Yeah.”

“Great. Congrats or...whatever. Here, take my keys. Get Eren home. I’ll call tomorrow.” The keys were handed over and Jean all but ran away from them to, Eren presumed, hook back up with the guy with freckles. 

“Um.” Armin looked down at Jean’s car keys then up at Eren. “I have to tell my friends I’m leaving but if you wanted to go back to your place-”

“Yes.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean's awfully judgmental about club sex for a guy who might have had his hands/fingers in some sensitive areas while in said club. Just saying. 
> 
> There was going to be a whole thing after this, a morning after and talking and explanations and feelings and...such, but it looks like it’s transforming into a much larger story so. Yes. Be on the lookout for that I guess? I think it’s gonna be called ‘Getting Right Shouldn’t Be So Wrong’. (Cheerful title is cheerful.)


End file.
